


Struck by You

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Awkward Flirting, Car Accidents, Carpenter Dean, Castiel is a nerd about nature, Castiel is a such a weird dork, Dean with a broken leg, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Photographer Castiel, Sick Castiel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3998644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean blearily blinked awake. His eyes told him what his nose and ears already knew - he was in a hospital. A machine blinked and beeped at his side, and his nostrils burned with disinfectant. Dean grunted and assessed himself. </p><p>Okay…he couldn’t move his right leg. His fingers drifted over the hard plaster of a cast, and he frowned, which made his cheek sting. He appeared to be cut up on his face, and besides the leg, he felt bruised and achy, not to mention groggy.</p><p>What the hell had happened?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Struck by You

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this tumblr post](http://capacity-overriden.tumblr.com/post/113731934589/bloodprinceryen-hieroglyphical-this-makes-me).

“Please stop sending male prostitutes to my hospital room. I’m not physically healthy enough to have sex, not to mention it’s unsanitary for them to be here.”

_What?_

Dean blearily blinked awake. His eyes told him what his nose and ears already knew - he was in a hospital. A machine blinked and beeped at his side, and his nostrils burned with disinfectant. Dean grunted and assessed himself. 

Okay…he couldn’t move his right leg. His fingers drifted over the hard plaster of a cast, and he frowned, which made his cheek sting. He appeared to be cut up on his face, and besides the leg, he felt bruised and achy, not to mention groggy.

What the hell had happened?

“The doctors say all the fluid is gone. Though they’re still keeping me to make sure there won’t be further complications.”

Dean turned his head. A curtain divided the room in two, and he could make out only the shadow of a figure lying on a bed on the other side. The other guy’s voice was deep and hoarse, and as Dean listened, the guy paused his conversation to cough. Dean didn’t see any other shadows through the partition, so he assumed his roommate was speaking on the phone.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to come,” the guy said once he’d finished hacking out his lungs. “Just a slight fever. I told you I’m fine.” There was a long sigh. “Good _bye_ , Gabriel. And please remember what I said -  _no more prostitutes_.”

There was a click as the guy returned the phone to its cradle, then the rustling of sheets as he got comfortable. 

“Um,” Dean said, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Hey.”

His roommate didn’t respond, so Dean said, “Hey, roomie. I’m talking to ya.”

“Oh. My apologies. I thought you perhaps had a visitor.” Sheets shifted and then the other guy drew back the curtain so they could speak face-to-face. 

Dean blinked. The guy was younger than he thought with such a rough voice like that, and he was…kinda hot, for somebody in the hospital. He was white, with dark, tousled hair and blue eyes. Like Dean, he wore a hospital gown that draped to his knees as he swung them off the side of the bed. His gaze roved over Dean.

“How are you feeling?”

Dean frowned and shuffled into a seated position, mindful of his leg. His head swam a bit - oh hey, pain medication. “Peachy.” He grimaced at how battered his body felt. He clutched his head. “Damn. What happened?”

“You were in a car accident. At least, that’s what I overheard.” The guy hesitated and flushed. “Sorry about my phone conversation. My brother has a terrible sense of humor… I hope it didn’t bother you too much.”

Dean found himself grinning. “Nah. It’s all good. I’ve got a brother so I know how that goes.” He frowned, finally processing his roommate’s words. 

A car accident? He vaguely recalled a jolt of panic and slamming on the brakes, though the headlights coming straight for him didn’t swerve out of the way in time. Dean shivered. The screeching tires, the jarring impact, the flying glass, the pain and chill of the night seeping in through the broken windows - he recalled it all in flashes, probably because he had been fading in and out of consciousness the whole time.

Oh, Baby. His poor, poor car.

Thank god he had been alone and his brother, Sammy, wasn’t in the car with him. Dean had been on the way to pick him up, now that he thought about it. The kid had had a late-night study session for one of his nerd lawyer classes at Stanford. A friend had driven him there, but Sam needed a ride home. 

So Dean, being the kind and devoted big brother he was, volunteered to pick Sam up. 

Where was Sam now? Did he know what happened to Dean?

“There was a young man in here for a while,” Dean’s roommate commented. “After the surgery to fix your leg. He left not too long ago, I think.”

“What’d he look like?”

“I couldn’t make out much, but he seemed to be inhumanly tall.”

Dean grinned. “That’d be Sammy, then. My little brother,” he explained. “Oh, I’m Dean by the way.”

“Castiel.”

Castiel stood up and padded over to shake Dean’s hand, his feet bare on the floor.

“Whoa, should you be up?” Dean said.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. Truly. I’ve been in the hospital long enough to know my limits.”

Dean could see the evidence of that huddled around Castiel’s bed - old flowers and cards and what looked like a giant bag of Tootsie rolls. 

“So, uh…what happened to you?”

“I got the flu and then pneumonia. Then there was fluid in my lungs as a complication from the pneumonia.”

“Oh. That…sucks.” 

“Yes,” Castiel said with a solemn nod. “It very much did. I’m almost back to normal now, though.”

“But your brother sent you male prostitutes to cheer you up?” Dean said with a wicked grin.

Castiel blushed. “I have never considered murder before, but now, with all this time on my hands…”

Dean laughed. “You’ve got it all planned out, huh?”

“Gabriel won’t know what hit him. Literally.”

Dean held his gut. Laughing hurt. He must’ve bruised a few ribs. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, his eyes creased with worry. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t. The truck that hit me did.”

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah, me too.” Dean glanced at his leg. “Though I ain’t gonna be doing the cha-cha anytime soon. Damn.” He ran a hand through the bristles of his hair. “How’m I gonna work? Shit, Sammy’s got another tuition bill coming up.”

“You’re funding your brother’s schooling?”

Dean didn’t like Castiel’s tone of voice, so he couldn’t stop himself from snapping, “Yeah. _Someone_  has to, and I’m all he’s got left so that leaves it to me.”

Castiel grew shamefaced. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” He shook his head to start over. “That’s not what I meant. I apologize if I’ve offended you.” 

Dean sighed. “Nah, it’s cool. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I guess I’m still adjusting to this.”

“Of course. It must all be very sudden and strange. I’m sorry for bothering you.” Castiel reached for the curtain but Dean spoke up.

“Hey, wait, you don’t have to do that. I’m bored. We get good reception in this place?”

“TV? Yes, there are lots of channels.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I personally enjoy the PBS Nature documentaries myself,” Castiel said. “And Spike had a Star Wars marathon that I watched yesterday.”

“Hell yeah!” 

Dean grabbed the remote at his bedside table and flipped on the TV set hanging in the corner. 

Spike was playing something else, so Dean ended up on HGTV where some assholes complained that they only had 1.2 million to spend on a house when their dream house cost 3 million. 

Castiel strained to see it from his bed after completely drawing the curtain back. Dean felt bad, and it must’ve been the pain meds dulling his brain, because Dean suddenly recalled that it wasn’t just prostitutes Castiel’s brother had sent to the hospital - it was _male_  prostitutes. 

“Hey, Cas, c’mere,” Dean said and scooted over. He patted the space beside him. “Don’t want you to hurt your neck trying to see.”

Castiel glanced at him curiously, his head cocked. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Castiel carefully navigated his IV cart over to Dean’s bed and hopped up beside him. There wasn’t a lot of space, so they wedged together. 

Dean couldn’t find it in him to complain. Castiel felt warm and solid. Yeah, they were strangers, but he kinda liked the guy. He had a good feeling about him. 

“So what do you do, Cas?” Dean asked. 

“For work? I’m a nature photographer. My recent assignment was Screech owls. I stayed out at night a lot, so that’s why I got sick, I think. They’re very small owls, no bigger than 10 inches at most. You can usually only find them when they call to each other, since they blend in with trees very well. They sound like this.” 

Castiel sat up and let out a trill of ridiculous noise. He puffed up his cheeks and flapped his arms. Dean almost got hit in the face, but Castiel was so freaking serious about it that Dean burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, ow,  _ow_ ,” Dean panted, clutching his gut. His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. 

Castiel was chagrined. “I-I’m sorry. Gabriel tells me that I spend so much time with animals that my human interaction can be…odd.”

“Hey, don’t leave,” Dean said as Castiel tried to get up and return to his own bed. Dean gripped Castiel’s sleeve, and pulled the other man back against him. “We were just getting started here. You told me your job, now let me tell you mine. It’s not as fun as finding Screech owls, but I’m a carpenter.”

“You build things?”

“Yep.”

“That would explain your…” Castiel trailed off with a blush. He slapped a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry. The hospital must be messing with my head.”

“My what?” Dean asked. 

“Your…physique,” Castiel all but whispered, completely mortified with himself. 

And there was confirmation if Dean ever needed it. He laughed through his pain. 

“Jesus, Cas, way to hit on an invalid.”

“I’m an invalid, too, if that makes any difference.”  But there was a hint of a smile on his face, and his eyes twinkled. 

“Alright,” Dean said. “So tell me…what got you into nature photography?”

They talked for hours in between nurses and doctors (who shooed them to their respective beds), physical therapy sessions, and commercials of terrible TV.

Sam showed up later that afternoon. Castiel was back in Dean’s bed, and they were making fun of idiots on Family Feud. 

“You’re awake,” Sam said in the doorway, and Dean gaped at him for a moment, nearly having forgotten he was in the hospital. 

“Hey, Sam. Uh, this is Cas. He’s my roommate.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” He strode forward to punch Dean in the arm. 

“Ow! Is that any way to treat the injured?”

“Thanks for calling to let me know you were okay, you  _jerk_!” Sam said. He sighed heavily, and Dean noted the bags under his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he said. Castiel stood up, wheeling his IV cart.

“I’ll just go for a walk,” he said, and Dean winked at him on his way out. Castiel ducked his head.

“So…did that seriously just happen in the few hours I’ve been gone?” Sam asked, nodding after Castiel.

“Yeah! Told you my game’s strong.”

“Emphasis on the  _gay_.”

“Shut up!” Dean sobered as Sam filled him in on his side of things. Dean had already learned that the other driver, the guy who hit him, was banged up but okay. At least they’d both made it. Could’ve been much worse. 

When Castiel returned, the three of them sat and chatted for a while. Sam was intrigued by Castiel’s profession and asked him all about it, fascinated by his crazy tales from all over the world. Dean was pretty impressed himself - heck, he’d never even been to Canada or Mexico; just the good ole continental US of A.

Over the next few days, Dean and Castiel grew even closer. The problem was that Castiel’s tests came back negative, so he was cleared to go home on the third day after their meeting. 

Dean tried not to let it show that the thought of Castiel leaving upset him. He debated whether or not to give him his number, but since Castiel traveled so much with his job, he probably didn’t want someone to tie him down. Castiel didn’t need the distraction.

Castiel stood at the door, his eyes on the ground. He’d changed into jeans and a polo, and had the rest of his belongings in a plastic bag that he clutched in his fist. 

“Um, okay, so I guess I’ll see you around, Cas,” Dean said. 

Castiel fidgeted. “I…yes. I’ll see you around.” He looked about to say something else, but scowled. His shoulders slumped. “Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean hated how final it sounded. 

With Castiel gone, Dean realized how boring the hospital was. Even the TV wasn’t as interesting without his  _and_  Castiel’s running commentaries - Dean wasn’t going to just talk to himself out loud now, was he? Especially since he’d gotten a new roommate practically immediately - a guy who liked to sleep and snored loudly.

So, Dean kept quiet for once in his life. He wasn’t sulking - no matter what Sam said. The doctors and nurses pestered him about his mood, fishing for signs of depression, but Dean told them it was unrelated to the accident. 

…and very much related, instead, to a stupid blue-eyed nature photographer who imitated birds in his spare time.

But Dean couldn’t tell them that. It was better that he’d let Castiel go. They were still basically strangers, after all.  

Two days after Castiel left, Dean was cleared to go home. Sam was set up to meet him, and once they’d filled out all the appropriate paperwork, Sam wheeled him to the exit. His leg jutted out in front of him, and Dean complained when Sam bashed him into the door by accident.

“You’d think  _you_  were in the car accident, not me. Jesus,” he muttered grumpily, but the frown slipped from his face when they pushed outside and none other than Castiel was leaning against Sam’s rental car. 

“Cas!” Dean said, and Castiel’s face lit up. 

“Hello, Dean. I’m so glad Sam caught me before I left. I was hoping to see you again.”

“Yeah? Well…same.”

“Uh-huh. This is great and all, but I’ve got an exam in a few hours so can we hurry this along?” Sam said. 

Dean grinned and grabbed Sam’s sleeve. “Hey, Sam, wait.” He leaned in. “Thanks,” he whispered, and Sam smirked.

“Yeah, yeah. Anything for you two lovebirds.”

Dean and Castiel exchanged looks and they both burst out laughing.

“Ow, ow, okay, still hurts,” Dean said, but he couldn’t stop smiling. Castiel and Sam helped him into the car and they drove off. 

And boy, Dean was never so grateful to be hit by that truck.


End file.
